Rolling in a Winter Wonderland
by malfoysminx
Summary: When Draco is hit by one of Harry's stray snowballs, a fight is inevitable. But when the fight gets physical their relationship will be irrevocably changed. dm/hp drarry SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys.

Author's note: The first of four chapters, this story will be somewhat fluffy, more than a little lemony, and very slashy! If thats not your cup of tea, you might want to head out now. Otherwise, enjoy! Updates should be pretty regular as the story is finished, it just needs proof reading :)

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

**Rolling in a Winter Wonderland**

Chapter 1:

Draco hummed quietly to himself as he walked through the main doors and out into the Hogwarts grounds. It was the day after Christmas and Draco was in an unusually good mood. He'd had a good haul of presents this year, not least of which was an exquisite velvet cloak sent by his mother from Milan.

He had the Slytherin common room practically to himself over the holidays and that, added to the relief of having escaped spending Christmas with his mother's friends in Italy, was quite enough to sustain his good mood throughout the holiday period.

After Lucius had announced he would be spending the entire months of December and January on some death eater business or other, Narcissa had wasted no time in arranging to spend the holidays with her friends.

At first Narcissa had insisted Draco go with her, after all, what was Christmas without family? But after some careful scheming on his part, Draco had convinced her that his staying at school would be quite beneficial for her future family plans for him. After all, Pansy would also be at school for Christmas. And what better time was there for spending 'quality' time with the girl Narcissa hoped would one day be her daughter-in-law.

Draco of course, had no intention of informing his mother that Pansy was quite in love with a Ravenclaw and most probably would not be spending a single minute of her holiday anywhere near the dungeons.

And so, Draco had been happily left at school to enjoy the holidays as he wished.

Today, as it happened, was a particularly fine day. The snowstorm during the night had left a thick layer of crisp snow, and a clear blue sky. Both the need for some fresh air and the desire to wear his new cloak had driven Draco from the warmth of the castle, to take a walk around the rose gardens.

As he exited the school, his ears were assailed by the noise coming from a Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff snowball fight. Immediately, Draco altered the course of his walk, instead heading down towards the quiet calm of the frozen lake. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by idiots who actually enjoyed rolling around in the cold, wet snow.

He was just leaving the vicinity of the fight when a cold, wet and painfully compact lump of snow hit the back of his head. Icy fury overtook him as he turned to see who was about to be obliterated. _No one_ could _ever_ be forgiven for getting snow in Draco's HAIR!

He growled menacingly. Of course it had been bloody Potter. No one else could have such appalling aim as to hit someone _behind_ him. Potter hadn't even been looking Draco's way.

Pulling his wand out, Draco levitated a large heap of snow into the air, aiming it until it was directly above Potter's head before releasing the spell.

The look on Potter's face, a combination of shock mixed with outrage, put the smile firmly back on Draco's face as he continued on his chosen path to the lake.

Unsurprisingly, Draco's peace was soon interrupted by a red-faced, soaking wet Harry Potter. As Draco quite innocently walked away, the Gryffindor gave chase, shouting insults at Draco's back.

Ignoring Potter as though he were nothing more than a slightly irritating buzzing insect, Draco continued on his way. At least he did, until Potter brought Narcissa into it. And if there was one thing Draco could not ignore, it was slurs against his mother.

Stopping abruptly, Draco turned around, sending a hex flying at Potter without any warning. The jet of light missed by millimetres, but before Draco could launch a second attack, Potter had lunged forwards, knocking Draco backwards into the snow.

Incensed, Draco pushed back immediately, tangling his fingers in the front of Potter's coat to get enough purchase to throw him off. Bucking his hips, Draco dislodged the Gryffindor long enough to flip him onto his back. The Slytherin followed the movement by jumping on top of Potter and pinning him down.

The victory did not last long. Potter, despite his smaller frame, was evidently much stronger and his desire for dominance was just as great as Draco's. With a hard push, Draco was once again on his back, Potter straddling his hips and holding his wrists against the snowy ground.

Draco paused for a moment before mounting his second attack, as much to catch his breath as to give Potter a false sense of security.

Draco was secretly pleased to note that Potter was just as out of breath as himself. The Gryffindor was red-faced and panting above him and Potter's grip on his wrists was slowly easing.

Potter's attention seemed suddenly distracted, though his gaze had not strayed from Draco's face. Seizing his opportunity, Draco surged forward, forcing Potter onto his back yet again as the dark haired boy was taken by surprise. Draco grabbed at Potter's hands to stop him fighting back but the smaller boy was too fast for him. His right hand snaked up to tangle in Draco's hair and Draco froze instantly.

Draco's eyes locked with Potter's nervously as he wondered what the Gryffindor would do next. There was something in Potter's expression that sent shivers skating up and down Draco's spine.

Draco tried to put it down to the fact that his new cloak now rested cold and wet against his back, soaking through his shirt. But deep down, Draco knew the snow had nothing to do with it.

Shifting slightly, Draco paused as Potter gasped softly. The Gryffindor's eyes widened perceptibly as he realised the other boy had caught his involuntary sound and for a moment Potter looked away.

"Give up?" Draco taunted, voice dripping with glee.

In response, Potter's hand, still tangled in Draco's hair, tightened almost painfully and before Draco could even stop to think, Potter had pulled his head down, pressing Draco's mouth hard against his own.

Later, when Draco thought back on it, he liked to think his immediate reaction had been to freeze. But in reality, he hadn't paused for even a heartbeat before kissing Potter back.

Potter tasted like chocolate, Draco found himself thinking as Potter tilted his head, forcing his tongue between Draco's parted lips. Chocolate mixed with something sweet, yet indefinable.

Draco hardly noticed as his own hands moved to grip Potters robes, drawing the other boy even closer. The Gryffindor's left hand seemed instinctively to snake around Draco, pressing their bodies together.

Draco couldn't think straight with Potter's lips against his. Wasn't sure he _wanted_ to think straight. But, inevitably, the kiss came to an end and in rushed the fresh air of clear thinking.

Brought back to his senses with an icy bump, Draco scrambled gracelessly to his feet, backing away frantically.

Then, he turned and ran.

Draco wasn't sure where he was headed; only knowing that he had to get away. Away from Potter and his stupid 'just been shagged' hair. Away from the glazed look in those astonishingly green eyes. Away from that flushed face and those full, slightly swollen, deliciously kissable red lips.

Draco didn't stop running until he reached one of the lesser-used courtyards. Wiping some snow off of one of the benches, Draco sunk down onto the cold stone. His thoughts whirled dizzily, finally settling on the main question.

What the _hell_ had just happened? Why had Potter _kissed_ him?

Uncomfortably, Draco realised that if Potter's goal had been to unnerve him, then Draco had played all too easily into Potter's hands. Literally, as well as figuratively, Draco's mind unhelpfully informed him.

Yet the look on Potter's face afterwards had not been one of victory. He seemed almost as surprised as Draco by what had happened.

Unconsciously, Draco lifted his fingers to his lips remembering the way Potter's had felt against his own. No one had ever kissed him like that before. The girls all seemed to expect him to do all the work, while the boys only seemed interested in showing off their talents.

With Potter it had been different. The battle for domination seemed to have extended to the kiss, yet giving in had felt just as good – better, even – than winning.

Draco shivered. But this time he allowed himself to pretend it was due only to his wet clothing. Heading back inside, Draco headed to his dorm for a change of clothes and then for the prefects bathroom and a long, hot bath.

Draco spent the rest of the afternoon in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, reading his potions textbook. Between paragraphs he contemplated going to dinner before inevitably returning to the book in his lap.

Eventually, Draco accepted that he was not willing to see Potter again until he had at least forgotten the taste of the Gryffindor's lips. Especially as even this thought process was enough to unsettle Draco yet again. In an attempt to distract himself, Draco decided to head to the kitchens for something to eat.

Turning the corner into the corridor leading to the kitchen, Draco ran straight into the one person he least wanted to see. Harry Potter was walking towards him, a plate of sandwiches in one hand and a glass of pumpkin juice in the other.

For one wild moment, Draco looked around for a place to hide, almost turning around and running back the way he had come. But he was nothing if not a Malfoy and Malfoys did not run away from stupid little boys. (Draco conveniently ignored his earlier sprint in the snow. But that had been the result of extenuating circumstances anyway.)

At that moment, Potter looked up and caught Draco's gaze. His expression flickered between nervous, embarrassed, hopeful and then back to nervous before evening out into a neutral expression.

Now the mask was in place, Draco had no idea what the other boy was thinking. Draco was secretly impressed by Potter's control, but buried that thought as quickly as it had come.

"Malfoy."

Draco was pleased to note that Potter's voice wasn't entirely even.

"Potter."

Draco smiled inwardly at his performance. Just the right amount of disgust and not even a flicker of emotion.

For a long moment, Potter stared at him and Draco was just beginning to give his thanks that Potter's hands were full and he could not possibly try anything (be it hexing him or otherwise}, when Potter turned and hurried away.

Realising he no longer had an appetite (at least, taunted his inner monologue, not for anything besides the taste of Potter) Draco turned and headed back to the common room.

He returned to his book but could concentrate no more now that he could before his latest run in with Potter. He tried turning his attention to charms but gave up on that before he'd even started. Finally, with a quick glance out of the window to check it wasn't snowing, Draco collected his broom and headed out to the quidditch pitch.

It was a clear night and the light from the moon was more than enough to illuminate his way. The light was not bright enough, however, for Draco to notice the second set of footprints beside his own which lead to the pitch.

When Draco took to the air, he was too distracted to see the startling green eyes watching him from the first row of the stands. And by the time the weather finally forced him to return to school, a fresh blanket of snow had covered the other set of tracks.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys.

Author's note: The second installment, involving a steamy bathroom...

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

**Rolling in a Winter Wonderland**

Chapter 2:

Back within the warmth of the castle, Draco dropped his broom off in his dorm before wandering back up to the prefect's bathroom for the second time that day. Muttering the password, Draco walked in heading straight for the water. He had kicked off his shoes and socks and was already half out of is shirt before he realised he was not alone.

With a certainty of forthcoming doom that would have made Trelawney proud, Draco looked up into the eyes of Harry Potter.

How Potter had found his way into the prefect's bathroom, Draco could only guess at. But the fact remained that a very real and very naked saviour of the wizarding world was at that moment surrounded by scented bubbles in what was supposed to be _Draco's _bath.

Suddenly feeling rather hot and bothered, Draco recalled that he had been in the process of undressing. His shirt was unbuttoned and one arm was already half out of its sleeve.

Apparently, this was a fact Potter was already aware of and Draco could almost feel the other boy's fiery gaze on his exposed skin.

Calling on every ounce of Malfoy pride that he contained, Draco ignored Potter's heated stare.

"This is the prefect's bathroom, Potter." Draco stated pointedly, "And as you may recall, you are not a prefect. Now leave immediately."

For a few seconds, the Gryffindor said nothing. Then,

"My towel is behind you, you'll have to pass it to me."

Unwillingly, Draco found himself looking over his shoulder to where there was indeed a violently red bath towel, next to a surprisingly neat pile of clothes.

Feeling vindictive (after all, he was a Malfoy - when _wasn't_ he feeling vindictive?), Draco turned back to face Potter with a sneer.

"I am not a house elf. Get the towel yourself."

This time the pause was significantly longer. Draco did a mental victory dance as he weighed up Potter's options. Without Draco's help, Potter could not reach his towel.

He was willing to bet that Potter's wand was safely tucked away amongst his pile of clothes. Potter had no choice but to retrieve the towel himself. And hopefully humiliate himself in the process by revealing to Draco how very small and insignificant he truly was.

Now, if Draco had really thought things through, it might have occurred to him that the Weaselette's boast about Potter's package was most probably true. It might also have occurred to him that after the day's events, a naked and dripping wet Harry Potter standing only a few feet away, would not be a particularly sensible situation to place himself in. But then, Draco had never acted sensibly where Potter was concerned and he was not likely to start now.

At length, Potter obviously came to a similar conclusion to Draco and without a word began to climb out of the water. Only then did Draco finally get an inkling of the events he had set in motion.

The soapy water poured of Potter's quidditch honed form as inch-by-inch his tanned body appeared out of the water. If Draco had been a James Bond fan he might have been reminded of a certain scene involving Daniel Craig in Casino Royale. But as it was, Draco had never seen a muggle movie in his life. Not that it made a difference to Draco's reaction, as Potter's eyes remained glued to Draco's face.

Feeling the heat bubbling up inside him, Draco resolved that his gaze would not leave Potter's face after all. It would be safer. Because maybe, just maybe, the Weaselette had been right about Potter. And if that was the case, Draco most definitely did not want to know. He had no interest whatsoever in the size of Potter's…

Draco's mouth fell open. Without even realising it, Draco's gaze had again slid lower to admire, no _laugh_ at, Potter's body. Except now only Potter's ankles were still beneath the water. And there was nothing funny about him at all. Suddenly Draco found himself staring at a very wet, very naked and _very_ well endowed Harry Potter, who was quite obviously… Draco choked slightly… _aroused_.

Draco found himself wondering what exactly Potter had been up to before he had been interrupted. The thought, along with the associated images, sent the blood rushing to his face, colouring his cheeks a vivid pink.

Draco's breathing had become quick and shallow, and he had no awareness of releasing the tight grip he'd had on his shirt. The fabric slid off his shoulders, fluttering to the ground without him noticing. He could think of nothing but the naked body in front of him.

"See something you like?"

Potter's voice, filled with amusement, was like a bucket of cold water over Draco's head. Draco's mouth snapped shut and his gaze shot up to rest on Potter's infuriating smirk.

"Don't be ridiculous." Draco scoffed, even as he refused to meet Potter's eyes.

Potter shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

Without his consent, Draco's gaze continued to follow Potter's movement, as the dark haired boy walked past him heading for his towel.

At this new angle, Draco's mouth went dry. Potter's arse was truly magnificent. Draco's trousers had been growing uncomfortably tight throughout the encounter, but the next sight to bombard his senses almost made him lose control.

Still facing away from Draco, Potter bent down to pick up his towel. An image of himself standing behind Potter as he bent over like that, thrusting into him, assailed Draco's mind. And it was everything he could do at that moment to stop himself from acting out that scene right then and there.

All too soon (or possibly not soon enough) Potter straightened up. Turning once more to face Draco, his towel clutched uselessly at his side, Potter looked Draco in the eye once more.

"Sure there's nothing you'd… like?"

And to Draco's total astonishment, Potter let his spare hand drift over his chest and down to stroke lightly over his erection. At Draco's complete inability to respond, Harry continued,

"Or maybe that's not what you want."

Potter let his eyes drop to Draco's crotch where his erection was pressing obviously against the front of his fashionably tight trousers.

"Maybe you want this."

As he spoke, Potter turned away, again exposing his arse to Draco's ravenous gaze. The hand that Potter had used to caress himself a moment before, now moved over his arse, spreading his cheeks slightly as if for Draco's inspection.

The look on Draco's face was obviously answer enough because a knowing smile flittered across Potter's face as _finally_ he wrapped the towel around his body, releasing Draco from his spell.

Still, Draco was unable to speak. Potter's suggestion was all his addled mind could think about. The fire in Potter's eyes as he had practically offered himself to Draco…

Potter was fully dressed and heading for the door before Draco's breathing had even considered returning to normal.

At the door, Potter looked back one last time.

"If you want me…" He paused meaningfully, "I'll be on the seventh floor."

And then he was gone.

Finally left alone, Draco collapsed into an undignified heap on the floor. His whole body was trembling with need and desire. He briefly turned his thoughts to Blaise before recalling that the other boy was away for the holidays.

He almost considered propositioning one of the 6th year Ravenclaw girls he had noticed ogling him lately, but he knew there was only one person who could sate his lust tonight.

Weakly, he pulled off the rest of his clothing, sighing in relief as he released his straining erection from the confines of his slacks.

Slipping into the water, Draco tried to block the image of Potter's naked body emerging from the same water so recently.

His eyes drifted closed as he curled his fingers around his length and began stroking slowly up and down.

Desperate to think of anything but Potter, Draco filled his thoughts with anything he could think of. Image after image flashed through his mind before being discarded. Amongst them the better half of Slytherin, a good portion of Ravenclaw and even a couple of the more attractive Gryffindors.

It was these last two which were his downfall. The mere memory of the red and gold badge sent his thoughts crashing back to Potter. His thoughts flicked constantly between the frustrated desires of the evening to the heated kiss of the afternoon, until inevitably, the two merged into fantasy.

Draco's head fell back against the tiles, his hand moving faster, as he pictured Potter, this time on his knees, though just as wet and naked as he had been less than fifteen minutes before.

Draco imagined how Potter would look, his lips stretched wide around Draco's length. The thought alone almost sent Draco over the edge but he held on, unwilling to lose the image just yet.

It seemed after that, that his fantasy was taking on a mind of its own; the fantasy Potter pulling back, then turning around. Draco watched the scene play out in his head with no control over what was happening, yet no desire to change a thing.

He watched as Potter looked back at him, sucking his own fingers into his mouth. Then, slowly, tracing his wet fingers over his damp skin until they reached his arse.

By now Draco was panting, torn between the almost painful need to come and the desperate desire to know what his imaginary Potter would do next.

But when Potter's fingers delved between his cheeks Draco couldn't hold back. As his fantasy Potter impaled himself on his own fingers, Draco finally gave in to his release.

For a long time Draco sat in the bath, not daring to open his eyes. His mental image of Potter had seemed almost to freeze with Potter's fingers buried to the hilt inside himself as Draco came all over Harry's delectable arse. And the image was still floating in front of his minds eye. The thought of opening his eyes and losing the picture bothered him more than he was happy to admit.

Finally forced from the bath by the rapidly cooling water, Draco quickly dried himself and began tugging on his clothes. He avoided looking around him at all costs, terrified that his phantom Potter would suddenly appear before him, naked and begging. The moment he was dressed, Draco almost ran from the room in a desperate bid to escape his own fantasies.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys.

Author's note: The third installment; contains lemony slash

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

**Rolling in a Winter Wonderland**

Chapter 3:

Draco walked down the corridor as fast as he could without appearing to be running, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the bathroom as possible.

He was so distracted that he was already on the sixth floor before he realised that when heading for the dungeons, one would usually head _down_.

His heart pounded in his throat as he eyed the stairs ahead. Down would take him back to the safe common room. Up would take him to Potter and his delectable arse.

The tightening of Draco's trousers at this reminder of Potter's arse was enough to let him know his body's preference.

A voice in his head screamed at him not to be stupid, but another louder voice reminded him that he had never turned away from one of Potter's challenges before and now was not the time to start. He suspected it was the owner of that same voice which kept filling his head with the taste of Potter's kisses and images of Potter, naked and wet.

Clearly, that second voice had won, Draco mused slightly hysterically, as he found himself walking along the seventh floor corridor towards the room of requirement.

When he arrived, the door was already in view. Draco walked straight through without giving himself a moment to think about it. There was no point. Draco had been heading for this meeting the moment Potter's lips had met his out in the snow.

Inside the room, Potter was waiting for him. The room had thoughtfully provided a large canopied bed on one side and a cosy seating area on the other, where Potter was now reclining.

The Gryffindor was lounging on a black sofa looking completely at ease. He was dressed in dark, close-fitting trousers and an emerald silk shirt which had the combined effect of illustrating exactly how good he would have looked in Slytherin colours as well as highlighting his startling green eyes. His feet were bare and propped up on the low ebony coffee table in front of him.

Draco had never seen Potter so well dressed. And the effect, especially with Draco's current state of mind, was intense.

Potter's eyes had locked on Draco the moment the blond entered the room, with an intensity that belied his laid-back position.

In an attempt to hide his uncertainty, Draco took several steps into the room, allowing the door to click shut behind him. The sound echoed in the quiet room and Draco found it difficult not to believe he hadn't made the biggest mistake of his life.

"So…" Potter's drawl was good enough to make a Malfoy proud, "How do you want me?"

Draco swallowed audibly but said nothing.

"Or maybe I'm being too forward? Would you prefer me a bit more submissive?"

Potter rose and moved towards him.

"Like this perhaps?" As he spoke, Potter dropped to his knees.

There was no way Potter could have known about Draco's fantasy, but the move was the catalyst that finally provoked a reaction.

Suddenly furious, though with himself or Potter he couldn't be sure, Draco hid behind his patented sneer.

"This was a stupid idea." He turned away, storming back towards the door.

Draco wasn't sure what he wanted but he knew it wasn't _this_.

Potter was laughing at him. This was nothing more than a game to the Gryffindor and Draco was through.

"Draco, wait…"

The sound of his name on Potter's lips froze him in his tracks as nothing else could have done, hand halfway to the door handle.

"I'm sorry."

The apology was almost more of a surprise than Potter's use of Draco's given name. Draco had turned back to face the Gryffindor before he realised what he was doing.

"I shouldn't have…" Potter paused, "I just wanted so much…"

He took a tentative step forward, looking relieved when Draco didn't move away.

"I just…"

Draco watched the struggle of emoticons play over Potter's face. This was the Harry Potter he knew. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve, who couldn't be coy if his life depended on it, who didn't know _how_ to smirk.

"You have no idea. No idea how much I want…" His voice broke. "Oh fuck it."

And with that he lunged forward, crashing his mouth against Draco's.

This time Draco didn't even think of _pretending_ that his response wasn't immediate. He met Potter's lips with as much passion as the dark haired boy had already displayed. Potter's arms wrapped around him, pulling their bodies flush against each other. Feverishly, Draco found himself clutching at Potter's shoulders as the Gryffindor traced a line of kisses across Draco's jaw, pausing at the tender spot on Draco's neck.

"Harry…"

The name was wrenched from Draco's lips as Potter's teeth grazed his skin and he was answered with his own name, dropped from Harry's lips almost like a prayer.

Somehow they moved from the doorway to the bed without letting go of each other for a second.

Draco's blood pumped like fire through his veins and nothing in the world could have pulled him from Potter at that moment. The taste of Potter's lips was like a drug and Draco was intoxicated.

Meanwhile, Harry's hands were busy with the buttons on Draco's shirt. Though he didn't realise it until Potter pulled back far enough to look at him.

"Merlin, Draco. You're so beautiful..."

The look of awe on Harry's face nearly took Draco's breath away. No one had ever looked at him like that before.

Surging upwards, Draco pushed Harry over onto his back. In the same movement, Draco grabbed both sides of Harry's shirt and tore it open. Neither boy noticed the ping of buttons hitting the floor. Draco was too busy examining every inch of Harry's bared chest, while Harry's attention was focused solely on the play of emotion across Draco's face.

It was a rare few who saw Draco so unguarded. And the sight was intensely compelling. If Harry hadn't wanted Draco with every fibre of his being before, he did now.

Draco's exploration beginning only with his eyes, soon led to his fingers and eventually his mouth. He kissed, licked and bit his way across the tanned skin, making mental notes of every sound Harry made.

When Draco's lips closed around Harry's nipple, the Gryffindor nearly bucked Draco off of him.

"You like that."

It was not a question and Draco received no answer. But he returned to his ministrations none the less.

Transferring his attention to Harry's other nipple, Draco let his fingers drift lower, finding the buckle of Harry's belt and quickly undoing it, along with the fastenings of the trousers beneath.

Finally lifting his mouth from Harry's chest, Draco hooked his fingers under the waistband of Harry's trousers and tugged. The material slid easily down Harry's thighs before coming to an abrupt halt. Beneath his trousers, Harry was naked.

All Draco could do was stare. It was not the first tine Draco had seen Harry naked that day, but this was different. Before, Harry had been across the room. Before, Draco couldn't _touch_.

Slowly, almost reverently, Draco let his fingers ghost over the velvety skin of Harry's length.

"Beautiful."

Draco didn't even realise he was speaking until the word left his mouth.

"Please…"

The whispered plea drew Draco's attention up to Harry's face, his hand falling away.

"Touch me Draco."

Harry shifted beneath him, trying to find Draco's hand again. In response, Draco wrapped his fingers around Harry's length stroking slowly up and down. Draco's eyes switched between Harry's face and the movement of his own hand, torn over where to look, not wanting to miss a thing.

The image in front of him; of his pale elegant fingers wrapped around the dark skin of Harry's length turned him on more than anything he had ever seen. Anything that is, except Harry's face at that moment.

Harry's cheeks were flushed, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in places. His eyes gazed at Draco with something akin to wonder in their depths and his perfect white teeth were biting down on his full, pink lower lip.

Unable to resist, Draco leaned forward, brushing his mouth over Harry's. Harry's lips parted instantly, drawing Draco's tongue into his mouth. At the same time, his arms locking together behind Draco's back.

Draco increased the speed of his hand, never once letting his lips leave Harry's, revelling in the feel of Harry's blunt finger nails clawing at his back.

Harry's unconscious movement grew more erratic and he finally tore his lips from Draco's sucking in panting lungfulls of air.

"Draco… Merlin… I'm so close, I can't…"

Harry sobbed almost incoherently, his head falling back and his eyes closing almost in pain.

"Look at me, Harry." Draco whispered huskily, needing to see the look in Harry's eyes as he came.

With effort, Harry opened his eyes, locking his gaze with Draco's.

"Come for me, Harry."

And that was all it took. Harry's body tensed beneath Draco's and a deep cry escaped him as his orgasm tore through him leaving him trembling with the force of it.

Draco was willing to swear he had never seen anything so beautiful as Harry's face at that moment. But he had little time to consider it. With a surprising display of energy, Harry pushed Draco back onto the bed, his fingers moving straight for the fastenings on Draco's trousers.

Harry's passion and desire did not seem to have flagged at all despite his recent orgasm. Within seconds, Draco was left wearing nothing but the delicate silver chain around his neck.

Harry wasted no time in letting his hands explore Draco's body. His fingers stroked over Draco's milky skin, caressing his chest before moving lower, his teasing touch skirting over Draco's thighs.

"Tease." Draco muttered, trying to shift his hips into Harry's hand.

But the Gryffindor was having none of it. Using his left hand to hold Draco down, Harry continued the ministrations of his right. Draco writhed desperately under Harry's teasing touch, needing so much more. But Harry was relentless.

His fingers moved from tracing patterns on Draco's inner thigh, to stroking the skin just beneath Draco's bellybutton. Draco's fingers were tangled in the sheets beneath him, gripping them as though he were worried he would fall with nothing to hold onto. He wanted to beg Harry for more. Beg him to _touch_. But despite everything, he was still too proud.

Soon enough, Harry joined his fingers with his lips. Starting with the hollow between Draco's neck and shoulder, Harry slowly kissed his way down Draco's body until he reached Draco's hip. Darting out his tongue, Harry licked a path over Draco's heated skin, moving closer and closer to Draco's aching erection.

"Please."

The plea was so quiet that Harry almost missed it. But the look on Draco's face confirmed it. Relenting, Harry released his grip on Draco's hip, at the same time allowing his fingers to brush lightly over Draco's length.

Draco's reaction was instantaneous, bucking his hips and forcing himself into Harry's open palm. Draco hissed in pleasure as finally Harry gave him what he needed. Yet already it wasn't enough. He needed more.

Images filled his head of the way Harry had offered himself to Draco in the bathroom. And Draco longed to be inside Harry, to feel the Gryffindor tight around him.

As if sensing the change in Draco's thoughts, Harry moved up to lie beside Draco, pressing their bodies against each other. Draco's eyes widened at the feel of Harry's hardness against him.

"Already?"

Harry nodded. "I can't get enough of you."

With that somewhat astonishing statement, Harry shifted until his own length was pressed firmly against Draco's, widening the grasp of his hand until his fingers could wrap around them both.

Draco groaned at the contact, thrusting his hips into Harry's grasp. The feel of the other boy so close to him was driving Draco slowly insane. His arms wrapped themselves around Harry almost of their own accord, pulling the other boy even closer, trapping Harry's hand between them.

"Did you mean it?" Draco asked desperately.

"Mean what?" Harry pulled back slightly to look at Draco.

"When you said… when you offered…" Draco stumbled uncertainly.

Harry's eyes lit up in realisation.

"I meant it."

His voice was husky as he caught Draco's gaze.

"Tonight I'm yours."

Draco almost came right then and for a moment he just stared, almost unable to believe what he had just heard.

Fortunately, Harry's brain was still functioning, though just barely, and with his eyes still locked on Draco's, he found the blond's hand with his. Wrapping his fingers around Draco's wrist, Harry brought the Slytherin's hand up to his mouth, pressing an open mouthed kiss into Draco's palm. Slowly, still gazing into Draco's eyes, he sucked Draco's index finger into his mouth.

Draco moaned softly at the sensation. Harry's mouth was hot and wet around his finger, and he couldn't help wondering how it feel if Harry used his mouth on other parts of Draco's anatomy.

A second finger soon joined the first, and then a third until finally, Harry guided Draco's hand down his body.

Draco was almost trembling as Harry positioned the Slytherin's fingers at his entrance, before finally releasing Draco's wrist. Slowly, Draco slid one finger into Harry, his eyes fixed on the other boy's face.

Harry's eyes fluttered shut as Draco added a second finger, before snapping open again as Draco began to move. Leisurely, Draco began sliding his fingers in and out of Harry, enjoying the quiet gasp as his curled fingers hit that certain spot.

"More." Harry whispered fervently.

More than happy to oblige, Draco added a third finger, but still Harry was not satisfied.

"Fuck me, Draco."

It was a command, not a request. But Draco no longer cared. Harry could have ordered anything of him right then and Draco would have willingly obeyed, just so long as he didn't have to stop.

Withdrawing his fingers, Draco moved over Harry, positioning himself at Harry's entrance. For just a second Draco paused, as sudden awareness of the enormity of this moment dawned on him. And then, his eyes locked with Harry's, Draco thrust into Harry's welcoming heat.

Something changed between them in that instant. Both coming to the unexpected and mostly unconscious realisation that they _fit_. In a way neither boy ever had or could with anyone else.

From that moment on, the entire dynamic of their relationship was irrevocably changed. They both knew it. And both revelled in that knowledge, as Draco thrust repeatedly into Harry.

Harry's fingers were tangled in Draco's hair, his legs wrapped around Draco's waist as Draco tried to hold back his orgasm just a bit longer.

Propping himself up on his arm, Draco slid his other hand between their sweat slicked bodies, curling around Harry's length and stroking in time with his thrusts.

Harry cried out in pleasure, a combination of Draco's name and desperate pleas for more. Draco thrust again, harder, in a bid to make Harry scream.

He was so close, but whether it was his irrepressible competitive streak or merely the desire to feel Harry coming apart around him, Draco was determined to make Harry come first.

And he loved the sounds Harry was making; from the quiet gasps of pleasure each time Draco hit that spot inside him, to the way Harry screamed Draco's name as he came.

The feel of Harry tensing around him was too much for Draco to withstand and he heard his own voice crying out Harry's name as his orgasm tore through him. Exhausted, spent and unable to support himself any longer, Draco collapsed on top of Harry, his eyes drifting shut as he felt the other boy's hands begin idly stroking his back.

It was some time before either of them had enough energy to move, let alone speak. But finally, Draco rolled off of Harry to lie beside him on the bed.

"How did this happen?" Draco asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

"Fine line between love and hate?" Harry offered.

"Love?" Draco's eyebrows rose in question.

Harry blushed.

"Well maybe not love. Lust and loathing perhaps?"

Draco chuckled.

"I still don't know how we ended up here…" Draco mused after a moment.

"I don't know." Harry shot Draco a half smile. "All I know is that you looked so kissable towering over me in the snow… you were all flushed and panting, your eyes so full of passion…"

"I think you'll find that was _anger_, Potter." Interrupted Draco.

"Maybe." Harry grimaced slightly at the use of his surname, "But it was a passionate emotion."

He paused looking at Draco.

"There's always been something between us, right from day one."

"I think you'll find that was loathing." Draco cut in again.

Harry rolled his eyes before continuing as if the interruption hadn't taken place.

"And our emotions have never been exactly… controlled."

Harry paused trying to collect his thoughts, knowing this was an important moment and desperate not to screw it up.

"Earlier, in the snow, I saw you in a way I never had before. And once the thought was in my head… well, you know the rest."

Harry blushed in remembrance, prompting a predatory smile from the Slytherin beside him, before struggling on with his speech.

"And, well, we've never done things by halves have we?"

Draco laughed softly, ducking his head to press a light kiss on Harry's forehead.

"Not to mention," continued Harry, "That those gorgeous hips of yours were pressed rather provocatively against mine."

Harry winked.

"I can't believe you were thinking about sex in the middle of a fight. With your worst enemy, no less!"

"I've been thinking about sex since the moment you bucked your hips to get me off of you."

"Potter, you're impossible. No wonder you acted like such a sex crazed maniac in the bathroom."

"Who can blame me? You should have seen yourself Malfoy; half dressed, eyes glazed, face flushed… And the way you were looking at me… I've never seen anyone look so delectable in my entire life."

Draco eyes glazed over once more at Harry's words, but he couldn't help the deep-rooted habit of taunting the Gryffindor.

"So you felt the need to strut around naked, offering yourself to me on a plate?"

"You didn't like that?"

Harry's grin turned coy, his hand snaking under the sheets and stroking Draco's naked form.

Draco blushed faintly but said nothing.

"Well? You didn't like having the chance to stare unreservedly at my dripping wet, naked body?"

Harry's voice had gone low and husky and the effect on Draco was impossible to miss. His pupils dilated and his body inched closer to Harry's, unconsciously rubbing against him.

Harry's voice dropped even lower as he continued to speak, his own body responding to Draco's movements.

"You didn't like me offering myself to you? Spreading myself open in outright invitation?"

"Harry…"

Draco's voice was choked as he pulled Harry tight against him, pressing their lips together.

Harry's response was immediate. His hands began roving over Draco's heated skin, re-exploring every inch of it. All Draco could do was moan into Harry's mouth as the Gryffindor's fingers closed around his length once more.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing! I'm just playing with JK Rowling's toys.

Author's note: The last chapter. Which is mostly just fluff. There is potential for a possible sequel, which I may write given time and enough encouragement. Let me know if you would like me to give it a shot!

Please Note: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.

**Rolling in a Winter Wonderland**

Chapter 4:

Draco awoke the following morning with a silly grin on his face and a warm cosy feeling in his stomach. The feeling was so alien that at first he was rather disorientated. But the feel of the warm body pressed against his back and the arm draped across his waist brought everything flooding back.

He was still in the room of requirement. And the person in bed with him was none other than the saviour of the wizarding world. Draco turned carefully to face Harry's sleeping form, trying not to jostle the Gryffindor. Harry could very well be the saviour of one Draco Malfoy as well, Draco mused as he brushed a stray lock of hair away from Harry's forehead.

The movement revealed the famous lightning bolt scar and Draco gave in to the temptation to trace the shape with his fingertip.

"And I thought you didn't like it."

Harry's voice, husky with sleep, drew Draco's gaze down to meet the eyes of his newly awakened bed partner.

Blushing slightly, Draco pulled his hand away from the scar.

"Sorry, I didn't…"

"Don't apologise." Cut in Harry, gently. "No one else has ever had the courage to touch it before."

It was Harry's turn to blush, "And it feels nice."

Draco grinned slightly wolfishly as he returned his finger to the scar, softly tracing the bolt of lightning.

This time he watched Harry's expression, revelling in the way Harry sighed in contentment, his eyes falling shut. Draco used the unobserved moment to study Harry's face in a way he never had before.

The dark haired Gryffindor wasn't traditionally handsome, but he had a strong jaw, a tanned, healthy looking complexion and that hair…

Draco couldn't help grinning as he let his fingers card through the thick locks. If Draco had thought Harry looked 'just-shagged' the previous night, it was nothing to how he looked now.

All semblance of order was lost, yet Harry had never looked sexier. Although Draco had to admit; the _cause_ of Harry's tousled look was probably as much the reason for Draco's admiration as the look itself.

Draco let his fingers drift down the side of Harry's face until he was cupping the Gryffindor's face in his hand. For a long moment the two boys did nothing more than stare into each other's eyes.

Draco wondered how he could possibly have failed to mention Harry's bottomless pools of green in his ever-growing list of Harry Potter's attractive features. The emotion in Harry's eyes alone was enough to make Draco weak at the knees.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Draco finally remembered why he had cupped Harry's chin in the first place. Leaning forward, he placed a chaste kiss on the other boy's lips. Harry immediately moved in for more but Draco held him firmly away.

"Not until you've brushed your teeth."

"Aw, c'mon Draco. Just one…" Harry tried to move in again.

Draco shivered at the sound of his name said so sexily in Harry's voice, but he was adamant. No kissing until they had both kept their appointments with their toothbrushes.

Finally, Harry gave in, on the condition that they met straight after breakfast for a walk around the grounds.

As he returned to the Slytherin dorms, Draco found himself humming happily. He even smiled at a passing fourth year Hufflepuff he passed along the way. (The poor girl was even more frightened by this unexpected behaviour than she would have been had Draco been scowling. And spent the rest of the day hiding in the Hufflepuff common room, refusing all attempts to draw her out. But of course, Draco was blissfully unaware of the state of Hufflepuff. And doubtlessly would not have cared even if he _had_ known.)

After breakfast, Draco headed out towards the quidditch pitch to meet Harry. He was just turning the corner around the side of the changing rooms when he was tackled from behind. Spinning around in surprise, Draco was automatically reaching for his wand when he found himself with an armful of Harry.

Slightly irritated, Draco shoved back, sending Harry flying backwards into the fresh snow. Harry, however, had no intention of letting go and Draco was pulled down with him. Before Draco could recover from the fall, he found himself pushed on to his back.

The wet snow instantly began to soak through his cloak (which had _just_ been cleaned, Draco fumed inwardly). Glaring at Harry, Draco bucked his hips, unseating Harry before knocking the Gryffindor backwards.

Harry landed on his arse with a soft 'oof', as Draco struggled up into a sitting position. His eyes met Harry's and a wave of guilt surged through him at the hurt look on the other boys face.

Relenting, Draco smiled slightly as he watched Harry push himself up off the ground.

"Stupid Gryffindor."

And then he pounced, knocking Harry back into the snow and covering the smaller boy's body with his own.

The now familiar feeling of Harry's fingers reaching up to tangle in his hair sent tingles down Draco's spine. And when Harry pulled Draco down into a heart stopping kiss, Draco melted completely.

It was not until later, as Draco and Harry headed towards the prefect's bathroom, wet through, though thoroughly kissed, that it occurred to Draco that maybe rolling around in the snow wasn't quite such a bad idea after all.

FIN.


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